


You Are My Dark Paradise

by BadLuckCharm



Series: Other Authors' Fics [36]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bring tissues, Canonical Character Death, Death, Delusions, Dementia, Depression, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Grieving Thomas, Hardcore depression, Holding On/Letting Go, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss of a Lover, M/M, Moving On, Post-Loss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Set In/After Movies, Sort of an alternate ending, Suicidal Thoughts, The Death Cure Spoilers, Unhappy Ending, drunk author, severe grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 19:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadLuckCharm/pseuds/BadLuckCharm
Summary: If you haven't read/seen Death Cure and don't want spoilers, stop reading here!After reaching the safe haven, Thomas is... not okay. Minho notices, and does everything he can to keep Thomas from doing something stupid. But sometimes, things don't always get better.Title inspired by Lana Del Rey's song: "Dark Paradise"





	You Are My Dark Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: So apparently I was so drunk watching the first Maze Runner that I thought I saw Newt wearing a necklace with a ring on it? And I always wondered why it wasn't in the second or third movie. Whoops...

“You should have let me die.”  
Minho’s eyes snapped to his friend, who was now awake. He leaned over, and patted Thomas’ arm, not actually acknowledging the words that had left the boy’s mouth.  
“Thomas! You’re awake!” He chuckled. “Bet you really thought you’d gotten away from us this time, right, shank?” Minho laughed, but quickly noticed the empty look in his friend’s eyes. “Thomas?”  
“You should have let me die.” Thomas repeated, staring at the ceiling as if it were a thousand miles away. For a second, it appeared as if Thomas couldn’t see at all. He simply stared at the ceiling of the hut, watching but never seeing.  
“What?” Fear and confusion gripped Minho’s voice.  
“I… I wish you guys would’ve just let me bleed out.” Thomas’ voice began to have more emotion now, rather than an empty shell that reflected what was happening inside of his heart. Minho sighed, staring at his friend who didn’t return the gaze.  
“Look, Thomas. I know it’s hard. I miss everyone, too. But we have to-”  
“I can’t live. I don’t wanna live anymore.” Minho opened his mouth to retaliate, but before he could even formulate words, Thomas continued. “Teresa, Chuck, Alby, Winston…” Thomas stopped, and for the first time since he’d stirred, Minho watched as Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, and turning to his side, away from Minho. Yet the black-haired boy could still see Thomas’ face scrunch up, as if he were in physical pain. “And…”  
_Newt_.  
Minho waited for Thomas to say it, but the only sound that left Thomas was a cry of pain, followed by a choked sob. Never really one for dealing with emotions too well, Minho awkwardly searched for something to do or say to console the boy lying down in front of him.  
“Hey, Thomas-”  
“Why didn’t you let me die?” It was a garbled mumble, but Minho heard his message loud and clear. “I don’t wanna live anymore, Minho.” Frantically, Thomas turned around, sitting up and grabbing the hems of Minho’s shirt, panic and hysteria in his voice. “I can’t live without them. I should’ve protected them, I should’ve… I should’ve saved _him_. I should have… I can’t- I can’t live without him.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I should have died.”  
Whether it was a mixture of grief over his lost friends that he and Thomas shared, or the frustration of being unable to help with Thomas’ pain, Minho’s blood boiled in rage.  
“Yeah, well how do you think that would’ve helped, you selfish shank!” He stood, glaring down at a bewildered Thomas. “You think you can just up and leave behind the people still left? Huh? You think Brenda doesn’t care? You think Aris doesn’t care? Vince? Huh? What, you think _I don’t care?_ Well, do you, Thomas? You think if you died that I’d just shrug and not give a klunk that one of my best friends and people I’ve looked up to for over a year now died?” Minho sat back in his chair, heaving. Thomas just stared back, his face unreadable while Minho put his face in his hands. “I don’t want to… I can’t lose anyone else. I just can’t.”  
For a moment, neither said anything.  
“I know you loved Newt,” -Minho didn’t see Thomas flinch at hearing the name aloud- “but he was my friend, too. I’m still hurting, too, Thomas.” Minho looked up, staring Thomas dead in the eye. “Which is why you can’t give up on the rest of us by taking the easy way out. We came too far to reach the end and just give up.” Thomas’ heart panged at that. It sounded so much like Newt’s speech to him just before they had escaped the maze. “He wouldn’t want you to give up now. None of them would.”  
It was then that Minho stood, silently checking the room for anything that might be lethal, just in case. He stood in the doorway, about to leave when Thomas spoke up in a soft tone.  
“Is it more selfish for me to just end the pain and join them or to make me suffer through life just so you don’t feel lonely?”  
Again, Minho turned and began to open his mouth --this time to start screaming-- but he decided against it, and left the tent.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
_Soft, yellow light reflected off the flourishing green grass of the empty Glade. It was quiet, peaceful. Almost serene. It was exactly how Thomas would imagine paradise; there were no walls, no Maze, and no grievers. Just the structures of the Glade, trees, and green grass for miles and miles, as far as Thomas could squint in the sunlight._  
_Thomas turned around, spinning in a circle to see it all, then stopped when his heart softened at the sight of what he saw._  
_“Tommy.” A smile and playful brown eyes greeted him, a warmth filling his heart at the sight. Thomas strode towards Newt._  
_“Newt.” Thomas threw his arms around the blonde, pulling him in tight. The sunlight was welcoming and warm on their skin, and Thomas held Newt like his life depended on it. “I missed you so much.” Tears pricked from his eyes, and he buried his face into the crook of Newt’s neck. Newt rubbed his back for a second, shushing his friend and lover soothingly all the while._  
_“Shh.” Newt leaned back to look into Thomas’ eyes, grinning and whispering so close Thomas felt the heat of Newt’s breath on his face. “S’okay now. We’re together.” Newt gave him a knowing look. “You remember what I told you, yeah?” Thomas’ mind went blank. “The most important thing is that we all have each other.” Newt’s eyes flicked down to Thomas’ lips, just a breath away from his own. “That I have you.” As he looked back into Thomas’ eyes, Thomas pressed forward that extra inch and kissed Newt._  
_Every time he did, it felt like the first time, all over again. The warm alcohol, the heat from the bonfire, the undeniable yearning to just be near Newt. It was almost like the same thing as going back to that night, but without the fear and the frustration of not knowing what was truly out there._  
_The kiss was tender, but with each kiss after, things sped up until Thomas realized he and Newt were rolling around in the grass, completely alone, but together. As if they were the only two people left in existence, and all that ever mattered --all that would ever matter-- was just them. Newt and Thomas were tangled up in each other, and Thomas couldn’t see anything other than this moment ever happening again._  
_Newt is his world. And how could he leave his world behind?_  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
It wasn’t hard for Minho --or anyone else, for that matter-- to see that something was _clearly_ wrong with Thomas. And not in the way that everyone else was struggling (Minho was sure his nights of waking up sweating, running from grievers and Janson and Cranks would never go away until he was a wrinkly old klunk, dying from old age). But no, Thomas was not okay.  
He hardly spoke, he only ate when Minho yelled at him to, and he spent most of his time asleep or in bed. But the shank didn’t have nightmares. Didn’t wake up sweating, didn’t look relieved to be awake and away from whatever should’ve haunted his dreams like the rest of the Gladers, Aris, and the girls from the other Maze. Thomas looked more upset that he woke up.  
At first, Minho thought it was Thomas’ wish for death that kept him going back into sleep, but after he went to go watch Thomas sleep, he knew that wasn’t the case. This shank was having _wet dreams_. It shouldn’t have taken him as long as it did, but he finally understood that it was Newt he kept running back to. It had to be.  
Problem was, Minho didn’t know how to address the fact that Thomas was more or less still “sleeping” with his dead boyfriend. So for a while, he figured he’d just let it continue. They were only dreams, and there was no real harm done.  
At least, that’s what Minho had told himself at the beginning.  
It wasn’t long after that Minho had noticed Thomas disappearing for long periods of time, only to come back upset, angry, and unwilling to talk to anyone. When Minho would pass Thomas’ tent every night during his rounds, he heard Thomas hushedly talking to someone, but when he poked his head in, no one but Thomas with a glare would be there.  
Eventually, Thomas stopped talking to other people unless he necessarily had to, and the only time Minho really heard him talk was when he was on his rounds. But Thomas had caught on, waiting for the sound of Minho walking away to resume whatever conversation he was having, knowing Minho wouldn’t hear.  
So, one night during dinner, Minho made a point of asking Vince to cover his shift rounds, under the excuse that he wasn’t feeling well. He knew Thomas had overheard (and later explained to Vince what was really going on).  
So that night, he snuck over to the outside of Thomas’ tent before his friend got there, lying in wait. Eventually, Thomas went to his tent, and laid down. After half and hour or so, Minho was starting to get tired when he heard Thomas’ voice, muffled by the tent.  
“Hey.”  
There was just silence, as Thomas paused for a moment, as if he were listening to someone respond. But no one did. And yet, Thomas continued after a second.  
“No, it was just a long day.”  
Another pause.  
“No, I don’t wanna worry about Minho.” Minho bit his tongue. “Yeah, I know he’s onto us! But I don’t care about that. All I care about is you.”  
Dead air passed for a brief second before Thomas’ voice grew softer.  
“I love you, too. And I’m sorry I don’t say it enough. I just… I hate that I don’t tell you enough how much you mean to me. That’s why I have to-” Thomas stopped, as if he’d been cut off. “Sorry.” The mutter was almost too quiet for Minho to hear through the tent.  
So… Thomas had been talking to Newt all along. He’d been imagining Newt talking to him for months, now. Minho cursed himself for being so stupid. How could he have not figured this out until just now?  
As silently, as he could, Minho slinked away, and left Thomas to continue his conversation with imaginary Newt. All the while, thoughts and fears ran through his head while his gut tied itself in knots. Thomas was losing his mind over their dead friends. Over Newt. And Minho now knew just how bad it had truly gotten for his friend.  
His thoughts wrestled around in his head, battling over letting Thomas be happy with his delusions or to intervene for his safety and sanity. Because if there was one clear line in the sand that rested in Minho’s conscience, it was that whatever version of Newt that Thomas had dreamed up was ripping him further and further away from reality.  
It had to stop, otherwise Minho was going to lose Thomas forever.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
He’d been able to catch Thomas after dinner. He stopped Thomas in order to talk about… well, Minho wasn’t quite sure what he’d say. But he had to try to save Thomas from himself.  
He started with making a snide comment about the food, but it was clear he was drowning. Time for drastic measures.  
Minho reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a simple string that had a ring hanging on the end of it.  
Thomas’ heart stopped. He’d wondered where that had gotten to. He had assumed Newt had lost it in the Scorch or some time after they’d made it out of the Maze.  
“Where did you-”  
“Newt gave it to me. Told me I should give it to you to whenever he thought you were going to do something stupid and needed to be reminded to stop being a shank.” Minho held up the necklace in the sunlight, staring at the tiny, meaningful object.  
“Minho…” Thomas tried to reach for the necklace, but Minho kept it out of his reach.  
“Thomas, you’re gonna make a choice here. You’re gonna stick it out with the rest of us, and do exactly what Newt wanted you to do, or you’re gonna leave behind people who still need you.” Thomas again tried to reach for the necklace, but Minho again held it just out of Thomas’ reach.  
“Minho, give me Newt’s ring.” Thomas’ voice made Minho shiver.  
“No.”  
“Give me the damn ring.” Thomas growled.  
“Thomas, stop! You’ve got to stop this!” Minho yelled, shoving Thomas --who was heaving and looking like he could kill-- away. “I’m only giving this to you if you stop all of this!”  
“All of what?”  
“Bullshit, Thomas! You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Minho screamed, face heating up, flustering. “Don’t think I don’t know you think you talk to Newt or dream about him being there!” Thomas’ face paled, and his gaze flitted away. Minho was panting, but his volume lowered, even though his intensity could still squeeze the life from Thomas.  
“I…”  
“Don’t you dare deny it. Don’t you shucking deny it. I know it’s hard. But you’re not the only one struggling!” Minho shot, anger and spit protruding from him. Thomas’ face spelled out guilt, as if it were written on his forehead. His eyes shifted every other second while he scratched his neck anxiously.  
“Just shut up and give me the necklace.”  
“No. Newt gave this to me.”  
“Yeah, and he said to give it to me, so give it here.” Thomas glared at Minho, but Minho didn’t even flinch. If he could stare down a griever, he could stare down Thomas. No matter how heartbroken he was.  
“Come back and ask me again when you’ve earned it.” With that, Minho turned away, walking back to the food tent before his next round came up. Thomas didn’t follow.  
Well… shit. That was his last resort for Thomas. Now what?  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
_“I’m afraid I’m going to lose you.”_  
_Newt’s eyes turned sad, and he gingerly stroked Thomas’ cheek with his thumb. He shook his head slowly, and stared at Thomas from their spot in the grass. He said nothing in return for a second, but just breathed evenly, which calmed Thomas down. After moments of the two of them just laying together and breathing deeply, Newt’s expression changed. He seemed almost uncomfortable._  
_“Tommy… look.” He shifted, and rolled onto his back to stare up at the open sky above. “I know you miss me. And I know you want to be with me in reality, too.” Thomas opened his mouth to argue, but Newt covered his mouth to stop him. “Just hear me out, Thomas. You need to let me go. It was fun while it lasted, but you know I can’t be here forever. You’re torturing yourself, Tommy. And I can’t watch you suffer anymore.”_  
_“But I don’t want to live without you. I have no reason.” Newt looked over at Thomas, staring into his eyes._  
_“I love you, but you have to move on. We can’t stay here forever, Thomas. This is only a dream, and I’m not real.”_  
_“Newt-” Tears started to well up in Thomas’ eyes, and he reached out to grab Newt’s hand, which felt uncharacteristically limp in his grasp._  
_“Tommy, you have to let me go. You have to move on, and let me go. What we have here…” Newt gestured with his free hand to around them. “None of this is real. It never was. Sure, we had our nights in the Glade, but this isn’t there. And neither of us are the people we were then.” Newt reached over, holding Thomas’ face. “I love you. But let me go.”_  
_Thomas pulled away, sitting up and wiping tears from his eyes._  
_“Stop, please. Newt, please stop.” Other people telling him to let Newt go was one thing. This was the one person that he couldn’t take it from. “I can’t lose you.” Newt sat up beside him._  
_“Tommy, you already have.”_  
_“No.” Newt’s look was pity and sorrow, and I broke Thomas’ heart to see. He hated that look. He never wanted Newt to look that way ever again._  
_“Thomas.”_  
_“No.” A hand was on his shoulder._  
_“Please, Tommy. Let me go.”_  
_“No, I won’t. I can’t!”_  
_“Thomas.”_  
_“No!"_  
“Thomas!”  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
“Thomas!” Minho yelled, shaking Thomas awake. Thomas kept screaming and crying, his eyes finally opening as he gasped for breath. Thomas bolted upright, coughing and crying and shaking, and Minho could only rest his hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Thomas, calm down, it’s okay! It was just a nightmare!”  
“Newt!” Thomas shrieked, his eyes frantic as he began flailing about, trying to run, but Minho held him down, pining him to the bed. “No!” Thomas kept screaming, but Minho ignored it. People kept rushing in to see what was wrong, but Minho told them off as he struggled to keep Thomas held down as he yelled out unintelligible shrieks and fought Minho’s grip hard.  
“Thomas!” Minho grunted, struggling against the other boy. “Thomas, stop!”  
“I can’t leave him!”  
“Thomas, stop! Let him go!” Minho shouted back, pushing Thomas’ arms apart in order to stare him down at Thomas, who had shut his eyes and was still screaming.  
“Newt!”  
A flash ran up next to Minho, jabbing Thomas’ arm with a needle, injecting him. It took Thomas a second, but eventually, he went limp under Minho. He looked over to see Aris panting.  
“Thanks.” Minho breathed, still worked up from finding Thomas panicking in his sleep, only to hold him down to prevent Thomas from doing something… irreversible.  
“Yeah. What the hell happened?” Aris asked.  
“I don’t know. I just found him like this. He was asleep, but he was crying and screaming and kicking, and I didn’t know what to do.” Minho explained. Aris looked as worried as Minho felt.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
He didn’t dream of Newt. He didn’t dream at all. Everything was black, and when he woke up, everything was white. For a half of second, panic flooded his veins, the terror that he somehow was back in the clutches of WCKD, until the brightness of the light dulled enough that he realized he was out in the sun. Grass surrounded him, but the scenery was starkly different from that of his paradise with Newt.  
Thomas sat up, and noticed Minho was sitting next to him, staring out at the water as it crashed against the rocks below them. He said nothing, and Minho being so silent and calm made Thomas’ nerves shoot up his spine.  
Something was _wrong_.  
And sure, he should’ve seen this coming. He knew that someone would try and give him an intervention. But in the middle of Thomas wading waist-deep through his muddy thoughts, Minho opened his mouth.  
“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me a few months ago.” He said evenly, no hint of emotion in his voice. He was just… calm. Which was weird for Minho. Before Thomas could ask what Minho was referring to, Minho continued. “You asked if it was more selfish to let you suffer and keep you alive so I won’t feel so alone, or to let you join the people you truly love.” He paused for a second, as if he were searching for the right words. “And, I think… I think you’re right. So I’ll cut you a deal.” Minho reached into his back waistband, and pulled out a gun. He turned it over gingerly in his hands, staring down at it as if it could give him all the answers he ever wanted, if only he could figure out how to make it work. “If you truly want to leave this world and throw away everything we ever fought for, take it. But, if you ever valued any of us who are still around: Brenda, Aris, Frypan, Jorge, Vince, Gally, Harriet, Sonya, or me, don’t give in. Show us that you give a shit about us. Show us that you appreciate the sacrifices that our friends on that stone made.”  
A ways down the seaside, Thomas spotted the camp, and the stone that stood on the beach, names and memories carved into its surface, reflecting in the water that pooled around it just as much as it reflected in everyone’s minds. The cuts were still just as deep as the intentional grooves of the names. The pain still as clear as the names: white markings on the dark grey block. Thomas wasn’t sure if he hated that stone or loved it: it held too many memories, good and bad.  
It took Thomas a long while to respond. “I know I’m letting you guys down. I know it seems like I don’t care. But I promise I do.” Minho finally looked at Thomas, sharply turning on him.  
“Then act like it!” But Thomas sighed.  
“I just can’t do this anymore, Minho. I don’t belong in this world. The safe haven isn’t for me. I should’ve bled out on my way back from WCKD headquarters. I’ve never been able to see a world without a Maze or WCKD or our other friends. I just can’t.” Thomas took a second, staring out at the sea. “But Newt could.” He said softly. “He always knew there was somewhere for us to all stay after WCKD was gone. He truly believed we belonged in a world without them and their oppression. And he never gave up.” Thomas looked down, staring at his hands in his lap. “But I did. I’m the one who gave up, and I’m sorry. It’s him who deserves to be here, not me. And I could’ve saved him. But I didn’t. And I can never forgive myself for that.”  
Minho shook his head. “I know.”  
Thomas looked up at his friend. Minho returned the gaze, and for the first time in a while, Thomas saw Minho’s eyes misting over. He held up the necklace that Thomas was sure he lost after going back into WCKD to confront Ava Paige and Teresa.  
“He always believed in you, Thomas. He never gave up. Not on you.” Thomas took the necklace, and then the papers the Minho had also handed him. “These were inside there. I’m sorry I kept them from you. I figured if you never saw them, you’d be okay. I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry.” Minho said. Thomas couldn’t even focus enough to be spiteful over Minho hiding Newt’s remaining words from him.  
Thomas read over the letter four or five times before the words started floating off the page. Tears sprung from his eyes, and his chest tightened as he tried to hold it all back.  
Newt was gone.  
Thomas shook with sobs, and tried his best to keep up with wiping them away. So it was true. He had lost Newt long before he turned. Newt never gave up on anyone or anything, save for himself.  
“Give me the gun.”  
“Thomas-”  
“You heard me.” Thomas stared through his soaked eyes at Minho. “Give me the gun, Minho.” His eyes were hard, and it was clear that his mind was made. And after the time they’d spent together as friends as far back as he could remember knowing Thomas, Minho knew there was no one that Thomas would change his mind after it was made.  
So he’d failed. After everything… the Maze, the grievers, the Scorch, taking down WCKD, escaping time and time again, losing their most trusted and closest friends, and surviving to see the place they’d all only dreamed of… just to end it all here. Here, on a grassy cliff overlooking the water, just a ways down the beach from the safe haven. Minho sighed, and turned to Thomas, a small, sad smile on his face.  
“Yeah. I figured you’d say that.” Thomas’ eyebrows furrowed at his friend.  
“What?”  
“Thomas, you’re a shuck good leader, but you’re still denser than a pile of klunk.” He knew Thomas wouldn’t change his mind. He’d held out hope, but it had all been in vain. “You’re letting Newt die in vain. You’re letting everyone die in vain.”  
“Maybe. But separating two magnets doesn’t mean that they don’t stop trying to connect back together.” Thomas said. Minho placed the gun in Thomas’ hand, and stood.  
“Have it your way. But I still think you should reconsider before you do something… irreversible.” He began walking away slowly towards the camp before he stopped, and turned with a half-smile that Thomas could tell was faked. “See you at dinner.” It sounded more like a question, but Minho kept walking without an answer.  
Thomas looked down at the gun, seeing Newt’s necklace wrapped around the handle. Unwrapping the jewelry from the weapon, Thomas slipped the ring on over his finger, the string still attached, holding it up to his lips.  
“I love you.” He whispered into the ring, one hand shaking, one steady.

~ _fin_ ~

**Author's Note:**

> **Note: This fic belongs to another author, I'm posting this here on their request, with their full permission and consent.**


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